


Convalescence Part Two

by TheMuchTooMerryMaiden



Series: The only way that each can help the other [5]
Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Illness, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-06
Updated: 2011-10-06
Packaged: 2017-10-24 09:03:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/261540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMuchTooMerryMaiden/pseuds/TheMuchTooMerryMaiden





	Convalescence Part Two

Robbie had been concerned that James might make a fuss about staying with him for a day or two; James hadn’t been fully compos mentis when he’d first suggested it and Robbie wasn’t sure he’d taken the idea in. In the end however merely getting dressed in the clothes Robbie had brought him in left the lad panting and clearly in pain and so Robbie didn’t even offer him the choice, he just drove directly home through a light rain.

By the time they pulled up outside Lewis’ flat in the late autumn twilight James looked like he’d been badly reanimated or perhaps like he ought to be lurching along groaning “Brainzzzzzzz” in a zombie movie. The doctor at the hospital had been slightly dubious about releasing James so soon, especially since he had quite an impressive temperature, but there was pressure on beds and staff and Lewis had assured him that somebody would be with James for at least the next two days, and so they had let James go with better than over the counter pain killers and a list of ‘call us if...’ instructions.

“Well, here we are,” Robbie said when James showed no inclination to move, “let’s get you in doors, shall we?”

“’m not sure I can get up,” slurred James, “felt OK at the hospital.” Robbie could hear the confusion in James’ voice and gently put a hand up to feel the lad’s forehead, it was as he expected very hot and dry.

“It’s OK, pet, you’ve just got a temperature, you’ll soon feel better.” James did not reply. Robbie climbed out of the car and went round to the passenger door. It was clear that James was not going to do very well at getting into the house under his own steam; he hadn’t even unfastened his seat belt. It took a bit of manoeuvring for Robbie to get James stood up, supporting him with a shoulder under his arm, and he was sure that if he’d been on his own the younger man would have been reduced to crawling. James kept apologising, or at least that’s what Robbie thought he was doing, things were coming out garbled and that combined with the shivers made James almost unintelligible. “Shut up, man,” Robbie replied, “you’d do the same for me, just concentrate on walking.”

It took some effort to get him into the house including working out how to prop him up while he unlocked the door. Once inside he was inordinately grateful that his flat was all on one level, he was able to steer James straight into the bedroom and sit him on the bed. “Can you get your trainers off?” Robbie asked as he switched on the bedside lamp and when James just looked at him glassily he crouched and pulled the trainers off for him. “Just stand for a moment,” he instructed and then moved rapidly to give just a little support as he threw back the duvet and then helped James to lower himself onto the bed; James’ groan of relief was the most heartfelt thing Robbie had heard in a long time and he couldn’t help himself but smile,

“That feel better, then?”

“You have no idea.” James replied with a brief, weak smile.

“Well you get yourself comfortable and I’ll get you something to drink and some of the painkillers before you get to sleep.”

“Thanks.”

By the time Robbie got back, and he really hadn’t lingered, James was asleep in exactly the same position he’d been in when Robbie left, like somebody had switched him off. As quietly as possible Robbie put down the glass of water and the two tablets on the bedside cabinet, filched the spare pillow and then settled himself down on the floor with the pillow to his back, telling himself he’d just keep an eye on the lad for a few minutes, to make sure he was settled.

The light from the bedside lamp was bathing James’ head and shoulders in a golden glow, throwing his aquiline features into sharp relief. His hair, damp from the drizzle outside and the heat of his fever was curling haphazardly round his face looking much darker than usual especially next to the pallor of his skin. It took some moments of rapt contemplation but Robbie had finally to admit that he didn’t think he’d ever seen anything so beautiful and that he’d be content to watch James sleep forever. _And now what do I do? he thought. It’s not like I’ve never had these thoughts before, I’ve watched him sleep before, realised how I felt about him, but this isn’t the same. I think I know how he feels, but I suppose it could be imagination on my part, wishful thinking. And now what do I do? I wait and I watch and I let him make the first move. He’s had so much grief in his life, so much pain and so much of it tied up with the idea of ‘love’ that it has to come from him and even if he never takes that step then I’ll wait, because, because I love him._ With that thought Robbie lent his head back slightly against the wall and allowed himself the luxury of time, time to watch James sleep.

Twelve hours later Robbie was glad that he’d allowed himself that time because he hadn’t had more than ten uninterrupted minutes since then. James had woken up shouting incoherently about half an hour after he’d fallen asleep and it had taken Robbie a solid five minutes to recall the younger man to himself and persuade him to take the painkillers. The doctor had warned him that James might very well run a high temperature, particularly in the evenings and at night for the next few days and Robbie knew that high temperatures could cause hallucinations and other tricks of the mind; he now realised that he should have woken James to take the pain medication instead of leaving him to sleep. The painkiller was designed to reduce the fever as well but Robbie decided to help it along by using a cold compress on James’ forehead and worried though he was, Robbie couldn’t suppress a small chuckle when he reflected on what a Jane Austen scene they made with him mopping the boy’s fevered brow in the dim light from the bedside lamp. James did sleep from time to time and Robbie dozed off and on but he was hyper aware of James’ every movement and kept startling awake.

As it was getting light, James’ temperature fell a little and he woke up comparatively clear headed. Robbie woke as James stirred and sat up straighter in the chair he’d moved from the living room.

“Feeling a bit better?” he asked.

“Yes, what time is it?”

“About half-six,” Robbie replied, and then he noticed the confusion in James’ expression and clarified, “half-six Friday morning.”

“Oh. Have you been sat there all night?” James asked.

“Most of it,” Robbie replied, trying to find an answer that wouldn’t make James feel any more obligated, “it’s quite a comfortable chair.”

“Oh, that’s good then, handy a comfortable chair when some great lout is sleeping in your bed.”

“Give over! New rule, sickest person gets the bed.” Robbie replied making it a joke, “Seriously, how are you feeling?”

“What’s that phrase? ‘Like death warmed over’ or that other one that I never understood ‘Like death on a mop-stick’,” James managed a weak smile.

“That’s about what I expected. I’m going to get you something to eat and drink,” James looked pained at the thought, “and you’re going to do your best to eat and drink at least a little, I’m not having you get dehydrated again, I don’t rate having to drag you back to the hospital.”

“If you insist,” James answered beginning to sit up.

While Robbie was in the kitchen making toast and tea he could hear James moving around, and he realised he was getting up to go to the bathroom. Robbie set off to make sure that James was all right but then he stopped, _let the lad have a bit of privacy,_ he thought and then he recalled Laura’s words about remembering that James was an adult and wondered how much they applied to his speculations about James’ feelings from the night before. Reaching over he switched the kettle off so that he would definitely be able to hear if James fell or called for help and then he switched it back on when he heard James shamble back into the bedroom.

By the time Robbie carried in a tray with tea, toast and medication, James was sat up in bed obviously trying to look awake and alert and in reality looking like he was ready for another twenty-four hours sleep.

“Breakfast!” Robbie declared and put the tray down on the bedside cabinet pushing the lamp back slightly. James narrowly succeeded in supressing a shudder but the fact that he felt more like a ten mile hike than he felt like eating was fairly obvious. “I won’t be offended if you don’t manage the toast,” Robbie continued, “but you need to get some fluids inside you whatever happens,” and then he turned one of the mugs round and handed it to James handle first.

“Thanks,” James said with a smile and leaned back with a sigh, cradling the tea partially on the bed clothes.

After breakfast it was clear that the best thing for James would be left to sleep.

“Right,” said Robbie, “do you need anything else?”

“Something to listen to?”

“Ah, you see I thought of that,” Robbie said with a smile, “I picked up your iPod when I picked up your clothes, earphones as well,” and bending over the bag he’d brought from James’ flat he fished the equipment out and handed it to James. “I brought your laptop as well, for when you’re feeling a bit better.” James caught at his hand as Robbie began to turn away,

“Thank you so much, sir, I can’t remember the last time somebody ... looked after me...” James hurriedly let go of Robbie’s hand, flushing with embarrassment as tears filled his eyes, Robbie of course noticed,

“Don’t talk wet, lad, like I said, you’d do the same for me. And please do you think you could possibly not call me ‘sir’?” James grinned at this, and Robbie was relieved that he’d managed to find a way to get the younger man past his embarrassment.

“I’ll try, sir!” was James’ obvious reply

“Get to sleep, smart arse!” Robbie said, pausing to gently stroke James’ face. When James closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, Robbie felt such a flood of tenderness for the lad that it was all he could do not to kiss him and more than he could do not to run his thumb along James’ cheekbone. James sighed and Robbie pulled away his hand, moved over to the window, pulled the curtains and walked to the door, “Shout if you need anything and ...” the pause stretched out, “sleep well.” As Robbie pulled the door to James was already drifting off, iPod forgotten.


End file.
